Dribbles and Drabbles
by DKM
Summary: A series of drabbles I've written based on prompts from other writers in the fandom. First prompt: Oliver loses Felicity in a crowd. Humor.
1. Chapter 1: Bazinga

**Dribbles and Drabbles**

_A series of drabbles I've written based on prompts from other writers in the fandom. _

**_1. Bazinga!_**

By: DKM

Rating: K

Pairing: none

Season/Episode: Doesn't matter

Category: Humor and Fluff

Prompt: Oliver loses Felicity in a crowd

Synopsis: One moment she was right next to him and the next she was gone. However Felicity Smoak had pulled off that feat was baffling even to him. But after their spat over her role in the next mission, Oliver Queen knew better. She was angry that he was relegating her back to her role of the IT nerd, as she so eloquently put it. Now he was on a mission to find her, a mission that would result in some painful consequences.

AN: I was a little stuck with my stories tonight so hopedreamlovepray gave me this prompt. I had intended on it being a little more scary, but something hit my funny bone *cough*Sheldon Cooper in a ball pit yelling BAZINGA!*cough* so it turned into this hilarious little drabble. I'll probably be posting more whenever someone sends me something to write about. Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: My original idea, but I don't own the characters or the show. Just trying to be creative.

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One moment she was right next to him and the next she was gone. However Felicity Smoak had pulled off that feat was baffling even to him. But after their spat over her role in the next mission, Oliver Queen knew better. She was angry that he was relegating her back to her role of the IT nerd, as she so eloquently put it.

"Felicity, this isn't funny," he said over his comm, earning him a laugh from both her and their partner, John Diggle, who'd been stationed at the edge of the crowded street that afternoon, watching over them as they got intel on the next name in the notebook.

"Oh, this is hysterical," Felicity snickered.

Oliver stopped in the middle of the crowd, scanning the bodies but being unable to spot the blonde through the thick of it. Wherever she'd gone, she'd done a good job of hiding herself.

"Where are you, Felicity? We need to get back to the foundry," he said through gritted teeth. Now he was getting angry that she had turned into a petulant child with her little game of hide-and-seek.

"Come and find me," she challenged.

"Diggle, where is she?"

"I have no idea." His tone said otherwise.

"You know I can track you using your phone," Oliver said as he pulled his cell out of his pocket and pulled up the GPS tracking app she'd installed on all their phones.

"Not if I've turned it off," Felicity snidely replied. His growl of frustration had her laughing again.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Oliver scanned the area once more as the crowd swayed around him in one large mass. His eyes fell over every blonde head he could see trying to figure out if it belonged to her or not. When he spotted a familiar golden ponytail near the edge of the crowd, he started to make his way towards it.

"Getting colder," he heard over the comm. Oliver took a deep breath before turning around and looking in the other direction. "Bazinga!" Felicity giggled over the comm. He immediately turned around and found the blonde was gone from his view again.

"Damn it, Felicity!" Oliver roared as he clenched his fists to keep his anger in check.

"You're never gonna catch me!" she taunted, still giggling.

"Alright, two can play this game," he replied, ducking into the crowd.

Felicity quickly stopped laughing. "Uh, oh," he heard her mutter into her comm. "Dig, where is he?"

"I dunno, he just disappeared," his bodyguard replied, and suddenly they were both on high alert.

"Not as much fun now, is it?" Oliver sneered, making his way to the edge of the crowd then slipping into an alley unseen by either of his two partners. Putting his comm on mute, he made quick work of scaling a fire escape before turning it back on again when he was on the roof of one of the low lying buildings above their heads and out of sight.

That's when he finally spotted her. Felicity was perched on a stoop on the other side of the building, her eyes scanning the crowd for him. Diggle was where he'd been the entire time, at the other end of the street, also searching the crowd. Oliver couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he said, "I see you."

They both frantically turned and searched for him all the while he stood above their heads, laughing just as Felicity had only moments ago. Oliver put the comm on mute again, this time taking the rooftop stairs down to the lobby. He slipped out the front door silently and stood behind Felicity as she continued to scan the crowd looking for him.

Stealthily, he came up behind her when she least expected it, wrapped his arms around her waist and said, "Bazinga!"

Felicity screamed at the top of her lungs. The heel of her shoe came down on his toes, catching Oliver off guard and causing him to drop his arms from her waist. Her elbow came into sharp contact with his ribs and he was surprised that the force nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. She'd really stepped up in her training. But Felicity wasn't done yet. She spun around and kneed him in the groin. Oliver quickly regretting this decision as the final blow from her fist landed square against his temple.

He wasn't out for the count, but he was definitely seeing stars. When had she learned to punch like that? "Felicity, it's just me," Oliver forced the words out as he lay against the door, still too shocked and in pain to move.

"Oh, my god!" she cried, her hands flying to her mouth in horror. Felicity was on her knees moments later examining the damage she had caused. Her fingers came up to stroke the side of his head where her fist made contact with his temple and he flinched. "Oliver Queen, why do you have to be such an idiot?" she scolded.

"Where did you learn to hit like that?" he answered back.

"From me," Diggle said. He was now standing about a foot behind Felicity giving Oliver a visual once over before smirking, "Good job, Smoak. It's not often someone gets the drop on Queen, let alone a woman."

Oliver chuckled even though it hurt. "Lucky shot," he tried to hide his wounded pride, but there would be no such luck.

"I saw the whole thing. Those were not lucky shots," Diggle shot back, giving him a stern look. He patted Felicity on the back before stepping forward and extending his hand to Oliver. He glared at them both as he took Diggle's hand and hoisted himself up.

"I hope you learned your lesson," Felicity smirked as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

"You're still not going out in the field on this one," Oliver sternly replied.

"I won't hesitate to hit you again," she shot back, jabbing her finger into his bruised ribs. It was hard enough to cause him to groan.

"Alright," Oliver relented. "Where did you learn to play dirty?"

"That was all you," Felicity proudly replied.


	2. Chapter 2: Cuts So Deep

_**2. Cuts So Deep**_

Rating: T

Pairing: Oliver/Felicity

Season/Episode: Set in the future

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Prompt: I was having a rough day so I just kinda spewed this out.

Synopsis: He'd always wondered why she never wore shorts, even on the hottest days of the year. Tonight, he'd get his answer... sort of. Trigger warning: cutting.

AN: I've been having a REALLY rough week. Like, it's been god awful. I finally broke out of the funk today and managed to vomit this in about an hour before my class started. Yes, it's short, but it deals with issues that are close to my heart.

Disclaimer: My original idea, but I don't own the characters or the show. Just trying to be creative.

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He wondered why he never saw her in shorts, especially on days as hot as today. No, she'd always wear a skirt that fell to her knees or pants. But never shorts. The only time he'd ever seen her in anything short was the dress she'd worn the night of the bomb collar incident. But since then, it had been long floor length gowns.

Today was no different. Even in the stifling mid summer heat she still wore a skirt that brushed past her knees. It intrigued him. Laurel had never worn anything longer than shorts on days like today. But this was Felicity Smoak, someone he knew very little about aside from what she revealed in her rambling outbursts. She was a mystery. Even the background check he'd done on her had revealed very little about her personal life.

Tonight he'd found her on the couch, curled up after a long day's work fast asleep against its cool forest green leather surface. Her knees were almost to her chest, her flowing magenta and white polka dotted skirt riding up her thighs exposing soft, creamy skin. But then he noticed something. Peeking out from beneath the ruffled fabric was a series of thin horizontal red lines that disappeared under the bright cotton.

He paused for a moment and stared at them. They weren't fresh, but they weren't old either; probably no more than a month judging by their pink edges. Taking a closer look, he realized what they were. His hand was reaching out, brushing the fabric higher before her knew what he was doing. When she jolted up, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, pulling it back, he could see he'd crossed a line.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" she asked, sitting up. She released her grip on his hand and smoothed out the skirt until it lay over her knees. The angry, questioning glare in her eyes made his mouth go dry.

"I…" He couldn't find the words. He didn't know what he was doing. He just wanted to see how many lines spread out across her thigh. It was morbid curiosity. The only other time he'd ever seen anything like that was back in college when one of his potential girlfriends told him he should stay away because she cut. He didn't know what that meant until she'd shown him the lines along her upper arms. He'd been appalled and disgusted at the time and never wanted anything to do with her again after that.

This was different. The woman before him was his closest confidant and best friend. Had he still been the petty, foolish boy he'd been in college, he wouldn't have cared enough to ask, but he wasn't that person anymore. The man he was now wanted to figure out why she felt the need to slice her beautiful skin open. What had hurt her so much?

She was still staring at him, waiting for an answer, her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" He spoke softly, trying to be as comforting as possible without overstepping his bounds. He wanted to reach out and touch her, take her hand as she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, but the way her mouth had become a thin line told him now was not the right time. His words could be her only comfort.

Pulling at the hem until it was taught against her knees, she scooted away, her eyes falling to her lap. The momentary flash of pain he saw in those endless blue pools tore at his heart, but she hid it quickly, slipping on a mask of indifference as she looked back up at him. "Nothing," she finally murmured.

"Okay." He knew not to push because she could be just as stubborn as he was when it came to revealing information. "You know I'm always here if you need to talk, right?"

She nodded. "I know." Her words were soft as she glanced back down into her lap. The anger had passed. Her shoulders slumped forward and he reached over, his large hand covering both her small ones in a solid show of support. When she gazed up at him, he could see a faint glimmer of tears shining under the fluorescent overhead lights.

There was a war going on inside her head. Her overly expressive eyes gave it away. Several emotions crossed those paled blue orbs before she finally looked away. He sat down beside her, his hands still covering hers. As he waited for her to say something, she sighed deeply and let her head fall to his shoulder.

Even if she didn't say a word, he didn't mind just sitting there being her pillow. "Someday," she whispered. "Right now, I'm not ready."

So he squeezed her hands and leaned back against the couch. His arm came up and wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest before the other arm enveloped her, completing the embrace. She sighed again, her head falling beneath his chin as her hand came to rest over his heart.

"I'll be here," he whispered then pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll always be here."


End file.
